


Yes

by missbeizy



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2768705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The temptation to move back had played across his skin everyday like fine needle points, each phone call from and mention of LA plip-pricking sharply, so intense and so with him at every moment that he eventually expected to see the marks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes

On the surface, coming home is as easy as booking the flight that takes him. As easy as hiring someone to cart all the shit he doesn't really want to take but that he knows he'll regret _not_ taking later. As easy as a phone call or two, confirming that someone will be there the day of his flight. But while he cannot wait to go back and while he's really and truly going home, what's the chance that things are as he left them? 

He's going back with a foreign smell all over him, clinging to the dense fabric of his clothes like the scent of cloves. He feels different. He's spent enough time in New York to pick up the in-jokes and the pace of life that becomes almost a cliche in the city; he's an honorary New Yorker--and he's leaving. He sets down the title with a resigned and apologetic smile, because he hates to leave her behind, but he also knows that he never should have come in the first place. _I'm sorry, baby. It's not you, really. It's me. You'll find someone better._ And he hasn't got anything to show for it; no real friendships beyond a few with bartenders that served him too regularly and got him home by taxi too often, so what is he actually leaving behind, anyway?

"Are you sure this wasn't just another half-baked decision?" Sean had asked, three months into Elijah's move. "Moving away doesn't equal maturity unless you're going to do something practical with it." Because they both knew that Elijah's hopes of getting into the music industry weren't anything to build a life on and that the underground scene in New York had indeed been the reason he chose it. And Elijah had seen the money and had tasted the freedom and had made the first decision that came to mind. "I love you, you know that. But you're never home, anyway, you're busy working, and that would be easier from Los Angeles, wouldn't it?"

The temptation to move back had played across his skin everyday like fine needle points, each phone call from and mention of LA plip-pricking sharply, so intense and so with him at every moment that he eventually expected to see the marks. Weeks later, standing at JFK baggage claim, he had looked around himself and suddenly realized there was nothing he wanted more than to get right back on a plane that would take him home--and that home was certainly not New York.

So it's done and he's better for it. But he's also terrified of piling his things back into the guesthouse and realizing all-too-late that the empty spot he left behind has been filled up.

*

A bowling alley is the last place Elijah would have figured he'd end up on his first weekend back. But Dom's in Hawaii and Elijah will admit that he's still a little disoriented from the move. So when Sean calls and puts Ali on the phone and Ali asks Elijah very politely if he'd like to come to the bowling party she's having with her friends on Saturday, refusal is the last thing that comes to mind.

He aches for the company of soft, pure people; people that love him even as they poke at all his bad habits; people whose friendship is unconditional. He aches to be called Uncle Elijah and to buy Ali candy bars behind Sean's back every time she asks for one. He aches for Sean to count every time he goes outside to smoke and for Sean to steal his pack of cigarettes after six times and hide it until they leave. 

Months before all he had wanted was to be an unsupervised adult. Now he realizes that what he labeled supervision is actually just positive company. It's very nearly the only structure he can put up with. And he'll admit, as any decently flawed human being should, that he needs structure forced onto his lifestyle. 

"Uncle Elijah!"

The high-pitched voice draws him out of his thoughts.

He squints at Ali as if he's just seen her. "When'd you grow up? What's your name again?"

She laughs and sinks to her knees and her little dress flutters around them and her marker-stained fingers claw at his knee. "I'm winning."

He looks up at the scoreboard and indeed she is. "That's just because I'm not playing. If I was, you'd be losing real bad."

Her face screws up. "Nuh-uh."

"Yah-huh!"

" _Nuh-uh_!"

Sean leans over and lifts Ali by the back of her waist and she goes, squealing all the way.

"Nuh-uh," he says, grinning and nuzzling Ali's hair briefly before watching her run off to take her turn. He sits next to Elijah. "You must be bored as hell."

Elijah, who has been wallowing in every heartbeat of the exchange, shifts to his right until his knee touches Sean's. "A little." He smiles. "And loving every minute."

"Well, it isn't exactly Baila or The Closet, but, um. I think there's a fog machine somewhere in here. You want me to get them to turn it on?"

Elijah can _feel_ Sean's eyes. And it has nothing to do with anything, but that's something that he has always noticed. The continuity is liquid relief sloshing around inside his chest.

"I think I'll manage," he replies, laughing so that his teeth show, and taps his knee against Sean's. "I called Dom."

"Yeah? I called a few days ago. Anything new happening?"

"Hot safety tech slash surfing instructor slash equipment carrier showing him the, ah, finer points of Hawaii. Which coincidentally all exist in a bed."

Sean snorts. "And the filming?"

Elijah feigns blankness. "Fil-ming?"

"I see." Sean laughs.

"He's having a good time, all things considered. Called me a variety of very interesting Hawaiian words for 'pussy'. At least that's what it sounded like."

"I'm happy for him," Sean says. "It's not blockbuster but it's just right for him. Sporadic, spread out, each new thing unique."

Elijah snatches a Twizzler off the table and pops it between his teeth and doesn't voice any of his worry that Dom is just settling for whatever comes along. "Unlike one of us." He exhales heavily. "I think my country roots are showing, man. This whole coming back to the heartland thing."

"Nah," Sean dismisses, tugging the candy from Elijah's mouth. Elijah chews the bite he had taken and watches Sean take one and then smoothly slide what's left back into Elijah's own mouth. Elijah chews again. "Home is where the people you love are. Moving to New York taught you that in a way that nothing else could."

"You're like a very short and puffy ball of wisdom," Elijah waxes, sighing grandly, and then giggles, prepared for the quick jab to his side. "And I love you?"

"Nice save." Sean leans over and for the briefest of seconds, his lips brush Elijah's ear. "I'll get you back later."

_Yeah_ , Elijah thinks, watching Sean get up and bowl a particularly awful turn. _Lesson learned._

*

He leaves his mom a voice message, even though she's a hundred yards away: "Hey. Have breakfast with me? Hope I catch you before you head out."

But she's already on her way to a panel meeting, so Elijah calls Sean, because he'd really like to get some eggs. Christine is away on business for the week, Sean reminds him, even though he hasn't forgotten, so they'd have to drop the girls off somewhere if they wanted to go out, or take them, which Elijah doesn't think would be very relaxing.

"I'll pick up something and bring it over to your place, then," Elijah offers, and likes the idea mostly because he's come up with it. 

An hour and a half later he dumps a greasy shopping bag full to the brim with eggs, sausages, bacon, and pancakes into Sean's arms. Sean squints at him over the food.

"There are only four of us, you know."

Elijah shrugs, and grins. Somehow gets away with doing things like this, no matter what the circumstance.

Ali is watching Liz crawl around the living room floor. Elijah can hear the dog barking, tied up in a side room. Ali jumps up to greet him and drags him over, showing him how she's been teaching Liz to draw. 

Sean sets a quick table not ten minutes later and calls everyone in, fussing over Liz so closely that Elijah wonders when the man has any time to think. Figures that's the break-down of Sean's day: taking care, thinking, taking care, thinking. Elijah knows they have a maid and a part-time nanny on-call, but he can't see Sean ever wanting to bring the nanny in. 

Ali eats a pile of scrambled eggs and manages to peek at the television in the living room from her seat at the table, which Sean quickly catches onto and tells her to eat her breakfast.

The diner food tastes amazing and Sean's eyes are really green and the house smells like gardenias. And Elijah loves it. Thinks about buying some gardenia-scented bathroom spray. Plays hide-the-fork with Ali until Liz throws a piece of toast at his head and Sean cracks up before he can remember to take Toast Projectile Number Two away from her.

After helping with the clean up and telling Ali to stay with Liz, Elijah goes with Sean to take the dog out. It's deliciously warm and bright and Elijah pops on his sunglasses as they stroll down the block, catching that baked and citrusy smell that he had never really appreciated before moving.

Elijah tells Sean about his failed attempt at breakfast with Mom.

"She's been keeping busy, I'd guess," Sean replies, switching the dog's leash to his other hand. "Though I may have to complain about being back-up."

"Oh, right," Elijah laughs, "make my life that much harder."

Back at the house Sean has messages to catch up on. He leaves Elijah with the girls for about a half-hour while shutting himself up in his small office, attached to his phone. 

When Ali accidentally makes Liz cry, Elijah awkwardly picks Liz up and holds her soft squishy body in his arms, feeling silly. But Ali goes on making her dolls talk to each other, nonplussed. He peeks down at Liz, who has a thumb in her mouth, and lets himself watch the attentive swivel of her dark eyes.

The soft clink of plastic-on-plastic toy draws him into a lull and when he looks up and sees Sean standing in the doorway, he doesn't wonder how long he's been watched. But he knows that expression of Sean's: head tilted, mouth quirked, and laugh lines crinkled up. Happy Sean. His chest fills slowly.

"Should I just let you take over?" Sean asks, breaking the silence with a breathy laugh, and Elijah just stares back, even as Ali runs up to Sean and bounces on her feet to show him something. Blinking, Sean finally looks down at her. Liz is getting squirmy in Elijah's arms, so he lets her onto the rug.

"I need to see someone in a few hours," Sean says, once he's worked his way across the room. "It works out because I'm bringing the girls to my Mom's around four."

"How long are they staying?"

"Until tomorrow night, maybe more. They're due for a visit and everyone's schedules have magically clicked this week, so..."

So.

On the way home Elijah calls his buddy Rob and cancels their plans and feels like an asshole. Once he gets home and over it he shoves all tabletop and furniture-coating clutter into garbage bags, which get tossed onto his patio out back.

*

He doesn't lie to himself. At least not when he can manage to be honest. And he'll admit that this is one of the things he missed; getting that funny extra thump in his heartbeat when he puts down his cell-phone after Sean says "be there in a few" and "anything I should bring?" in a tone that makes his cheeks hot.

Does he think Sean...? Well. He's been walking on eggshells ever since moving back, needing to be reassured about everything at least once before he can tell himself it's okay.

And they haven't had a second, really, with scheduling and the girls and Elijah trying to connect with old friends and he hasn't been sure--

He practically comes out of his skin when he hears Sean's car in the driveway. Stubs out his cigarette, realizes he just smoked it and that his mouth is coated with the taste of it, curses himself off, and trips over a pair of shoes to get to the door. He decides he's not very good at this sort of thing and briefly entertains the idea of retiring to Guam. Realizes he has no idea where Guam is and opens the door, letting in the flat green smell of the outside and Sean along with it.

"Hey, lemme get that," he says immediately, reaching for Sean's backpack which is already being put down. And so they get messed up and tangled before Sean can even say hello. The second Elijah's arm brushes his Sean is kissing him messily and off-centered and Elijah is falling over the backpack to get his arms up and around Sean's neck.

And the desperation smells like sugar and overrides the tang of cloves, and there's a wall against Elijah's back and hair between Elijah's fingers. He chokes for breath between lunges, coping with wet tongue, and registers the hot press of a body lined up point to point (chest, belly, thighs, feet) with his own. The surge of energy wanes, action replaced by the noise of heavy breathing.

"Sorry," Sean murmurs, and is laughing just a little, and begins kissing at Elijah's mouth again. "Going crazy. Did I fuck up your night? Fuck, I don't care. I should, but." A longer kiss, parting Elijah's lips, bringing up a sigh. "You shouldn't smoke so much."

Elijah giggles. "God, I missed you."

And then loses the funny, because Sean's mouth falls gently to the crook of his neck and begins kissing there. Tips his head back and it taps the wall and Sean finds the soft part and sucks hard, making Elijah's fingers curl. Neck, Adam's apple, chin, _oh right there_ at the corner of his mouth and that makes him shiver all over, and then his lips again, so hot, so wet, so _how did I ever survive without this_.

"I've got you tonight," Sean says, real low, the vibration of his voice against Elijah's ear as it receives a steady nibbling. "Want to show you how much I missed you. Let me. Let me..." He presses Elijah's earlobe between his teeth and Elijah shudders and pushes into it.

Making it to the bedroom seems to take hours but once they're there everything begins to speed up again. Elijah swats things off his unmade bed, desperately praying there are pillows somewhere under all the CDs and papers and twice-worn t-shirts. _Not that pillows are immediately necessary_ , he amends silently. Stops thinking because he's on top of Sean and falling forward and Sean's mouth tastes like grapes. 

Sean's fingers wriggle under his shirt and pull it over his head. They both go for Elijah's jeans at the same time but Sean pulls back and leaves the zipper to Elijah, whose hands linger there ineffectually as Sean begins to nip at his collarbone. Elijah shifts up higher, hand digging into the mattress, and his jeans hang loose and open, pushed just an inch off his waist, and he doesn't give a shit because Sean is lick-kiss-biting around his nipples, which strikes him very still and makes the space between his eyebrows damp.

Slows again and he thinks that Sean must spend time wondering why it does that, why it changes speed for no reason--probably knows all the details that explain it. 

Wetness all along his chest because Sean has lost himself in the exploration. Elijah keeps pushing himself up until he's kneeled over Sean's lap and Sean is kissing slowly down each set of ribs, dragging his tongue up the center and then falling back down, fingertips passing over Elijah's sides and bringing shiver after shiver with the soft drifting touch. 

Sean's hands sink around, cover the span of Elijah's shoulders and back and then dip and cup his ass, pushing the denim away, making Elijah's breath catch. Having not bothered to put on boxers, Elijah's skin is the first thing Sean's hands find, and the next time they kiss Elijah can feel the grin on his lips. 

Elijah is rolled onto his back and his arms scramble to trap Sean there, loving the weight pressing him into the mattress, loving being covered. Sitting up and back, Sean tugs at the dangling bits of Elijah's jeans and Elijah lifts his hips and the pants are blessedly gone. Hot and cold in various parts of his body, he tugs Sean back over him and they kiss, slower and more thorough this time, which Elijah breaks only once to get Sean's button-down shirt off. And this, and the sturdy wide spacing of Sean's shoulders, and the pretty pout of his lip, and Elijah wishes they'd turned on a light.

Bellies hot and pressed together, Elijah shudders, grinding his half-hard cock up against the rough denim of Sean's jeans. 

Their mouths part and Sean takes a couple breaths and then nudges his nose against Elijah's. "Turn over."

Blood rushing his face and ears at the implication, Elijah turns over, taking time to arrange a pillow under his cheek, listening to the rustle of belt and fabric as Sean kicks his pants off and snatches the lube from Elijah's sock drawer. Waits for it--the hot glide of skin as Sean settles over Elijah back, bracing himself on his hands. The heavy weight of Sean's cock bumps Elijah's ass, drawing his attention sharply, only to have it distracted upward again by wet kisses along the nape of his neck where the hair is the softest. Sean bites down softly and Elijah's lips fall apart.

Sean sighs against the spot between Elijah's shoulder blades, knees whispering against the sheets as he scoots down farther, dropping a line of kisses right down Elijah's spine, kisses that make goosebumps, make his toes curl up. When he feels the near-invisible hair at the small of his lower back stirred by Sean's breath he knows what's coming and turns his cheek, pushing his face into the pillow. Sean's lips ghost parted over the rise, pressing kisses along the tight flesh, placing soft bites which he soothes with laps of his tongue. He shifts around and bit and his hand comes up, finger settling just over the last knob of Elijah's spine and then panning lower, tracing the faint fuzzy hair along the cleavage of Elijah's ass. 

Clenching up and swallowing a whimper, Elijah's knees dig into the bed. He is quickly parted and the exposed feeling makes his cock throb. Before he can even prepare himself Sean's mouth is tickling kisses there, but it is the slip of a tongue that makes him buck into the sheets, and he can't stop the noise that rises in his throat as Sean's tongue passes over the pucker of his asshole. Passes it a dozen times, kisses it, sucks at it, forcing Elijah to make that noise again and again. Elijah's erection now digs into the bed and he lifts his hips, pushing greedily into it as Sean's tongue begins pushing just a little bit inside. When Elijah moves just the right way he can feel the accumulated tracks of saliva slippery between his ass cheeks. 

"Jesus," he gasps out. Sean begins a slow imitation of a thrust with his tongue and Elijah wants to explode with it, wants to demand to be fucked right then and there. And then Sean pushes up, presses his cock between the spit-slick halves and rubs, _fucking rubs_ , hard, pushing flesh and making Elijah's whole body double-up with the heat. " _Fuck_ , Sean."

Wants to feel the bed creak and the burning pain, wants marks all over his shoulders, wants to be bitten, wants come on his skin, and knows he's stumbling ahead but fuck if Sean doesn't open that bottle of lube in the next eight seconds--

The blessed noise of the plastic cap flipping fills his ears and Elijah grinds his ass up into Sean again, belly off the sheets and legs parallel with Sean's. And then Elijah feels fingers and groans and pulls away. "No, no, don't, just..."

"Sure?" Sean replies, out of breath just from watching Elijah, and uses the pause to squeeze the curves of Elijah's ass and then grip his hips. Elijah loves the way Sean's hands hook so neatly right there.

"Yeah, shit."

Sean's hands tug where they are, bringing Elijah's hips higher. Ass in the air, Elijah turns his other cheek against the pillow, can feel the crease of the pillowcase and the overheated surface of the one that had been there. Sweat gathers behind his knees, at the bend of his elbows, beats furious wet warmth along his neck and face and temples. He swallows thickly and Sean's fingers spread him and the lube that goes on is warm because Sean always takes the time to get it that way before using it. Elijah listens to the low squelch of lube as Sean fists it over himself. 

And the moment stands still, Sean stops rubbing the slick hole and lingers over it, pushing his hips. Elijah pushes back and with the most careful of push-nudge and resistance of Elijah's tightness he finds himself three-quarters of the way in. Elijah exhales loudly and is shaking because it fucking hurts, and rearranges his fists on the bed, pushing up on his elbows and shifting his knees. Takes a little of the pressure off and Sean stays still, letting Elijah move around his cock, and then Elijah pushes back after a brief respite and Sean hisses as Elijah's spread ass rocks and swallows the rest of him.

"Okay?" Sean squeezes out between two breaths.

"Don't move," Elijah sighs, sounding just as strained, but _oh god fuck so fucking full_.

The lube bottle is squeezed between them again and Elijah feels it trickle down the crack of his ass. Sean smears it and Elijah pulls forward, ass contracting as Sean's cock slips out. Easier the second time and the lube makes everything damp and faintly sticky and he can feel the stretch and the pressure on that spot when Sean's just an inch or two in. Elijah brings his hips down and Sean rocks up and they start that way, slowly coming together with just a bit of push at the end of every pass. Once the muscle is stretched Elijah feels Sean between his knees and feels the telltale squeak of bedsprings.

"Oh, _shit_..." Elijah's sweating now, the sheets sticking wherever he touches them, ass tapping Sean's pelvis with every backward thrust. Layered under the sweat is the heat and the two sandwich together, playing with hints of chill and shivers, egging on the rhythm, getting swallowed up by it as Sean begins to fuck Elijah properly. All Elijah can feel is the fullness, the burning push, and the pressure. His hands curl under the pillow and around the edge of the mattress and his knees slip farther apart.

Muscles burning, Elijah slows, lets Sean take over, and Sean fucking takes, rolling a steady thrust, fingers slipping on Elijah's skin each time he tries to maintain his grip. 

"Oh, god," he moans, stops, and pulls out, making Elijah's whole body clench up. His back arches when Sean slips a finger in, testing the tightness and watching it close around his lube-soaked finger. 

Elijah, head hanging between bent arms, lets out a low groan. "Please," he mumbles, squeezing himself purposefully around the finger, and is rewarded with the push of Sean's cock.

They go back and forth, bobbing and weaving around this rhythm, repeating the process that gets choppier and less confident as Sean gets closer. His legs ache from staying upright and, belly heaving, Elijah closes his eyes and pictures what he feels; Sean's fingers squeezing his ass, pushing the halves together and then spreading them wide open, everything shiny and wet with lube. There is a pause during which Elijah's squeezed together; he goes still and Sean thrusts rapidly, letting the tight press and damp slickness work up a brief frenzy, letting it make his balls tight. He stops, and Elijah's knuckles are white around the edge of the mattress.

"Ahh _shiiit_." 

Elijah listens to Sean pant, feels Sean shake. "Wait, don't yet, I..." 

And knows because they've done this a million times, and wants so very much, so he finds himself sliding off, coming forward off his knees turning around, letting Sean's cock bob there. Slides on his belly, ignoring entirely his own near-painful erection and finds the crease of Sean's belly and laps the sweat there, letting the salty-nothing taste melt over his tongue.

"Elijah, what," Sean pants, face beet red and temples dotted with sweat, and Elijah's fingers find his slippery cock. Elijah begins to tug just as he messily pushes the tip against his lips and licks. Sean shudders, takes Elijah's hair in hand and shifts on his knees.

"Like this," Elijah murmurs against the shaft of Sean's cock, tasting himself there, and shivering with the nasty pleasure of it. 

It doesn't take much and Sean is so close. Elijah lets the cock sit on his tongue, affording it a quick suck between pumps of his fist. Sean gets quieter and quieter as he fights it off, offering only the occasional groan.

" _Elijah_." He pushes at Elijah's neck warningly and Elijah closes his lips in a loose circle around the head and listens to the low wet _slickslickslick_ of his own hand. Feels Sean's fingers curl so tight around the side of his neck that he has no doubt there will be finger marks later. But who the fuck cares because Sean is coming in his mouth, spurting and pulsing and twitching wildly between his lips, and the bitter-salt floods his tongue and teeth and dribbles up at the corners of his mouth. Elijah lifts Sean's cock from his mouth and stops jerking and Sean groans and then Elijah starts again, tugging and tugging and making Sean spurt once twice three times again, splattering Elijah's mouth and left cheek and chin. Elijah rubs the wetness into his lips with the blood-red crown.

"Oh, _god_." Sean is shaking and stroking Elijah's temple and watching, staring like a man trapped by his line of sight as Elijah licks at the come, finding stray flecks along his wrist and along Sean's belly. And then Elijah sits up on his knees and kisses Sean and Sean finds himself lapping the smears from Elijah's chin and mouth, face hot with embarrassment but driven to it anyway. 

Finally they're just kissing and sticky and covered in the musky smell, and Elijah's erection is digging into Sean's belly. Sean takes it and feels the smear of lube and come and sweat. He squeezes and strokes it, and fondles Elijah's balls and presses the skin behind them, pushing far enough to finger the loose and fucked asshole before coming back to work the shaft. And it doesn't matter to Elijah and he barely cares but then it happens and he does fucking care because it melts his fucking bones and Sean's hand is so fucking good and fast and wide. He's coming all over Sean's fingers and Sean's thighs and sobbing Sean's name and collapsing forward and losing probably half a million brain cells with the nerves firing all through his body.

When he remembers he is in fact alive he lifts his eyelids and realizes he's clinging to Sean and that Sean is clinging back and that there are warm, slippery fingers cupping his back and soft lips soothing the bite marks along his shoulder. He can't feel his legs. He groans and shifts his arms and Sean holds him tighter.

"Holy shit."

"I hear that."

"Oh man, I..."

"I think I broke my, eh, knees." Pant.

"Can you break your knees?" Pant pant.

"Well, no, technically--"

Elijah laughs (pant), and even that makes his body wince. "I'm kidding, you know. How the fuck can you even think after..."

"No, I. Yeah. Forget it."

Elijah looks down and groans. "Oh, we need a..."

"Something," Sean finishes.

"Yeah, good, yes, something is. Yes."

A few t-shirts fished from the edge of the bed do a good enough job and once there is some semblance of dryness Sean whips the top sheet off the bed. Makes a face at the bottom sheet, removes it, and then breathes a sigh of relief at the dry mattress pad. Elijah can only giggle at the effort and collapse onto the soft, dry blanket that Sean tugs into place. 

Confident hands seek him out and he curls instinctively against Sean's chest and tucks his head under Sean's chin, feeling Sean's heart jackhammer against his cheek. 

Soft voice in his ear saying, "Wanted to kill you for leaving. Love you so much. Fucking Dom whining and I whined back and it was pathetic and don't you ever move half-way across the country again, Doodle, or I may have to--"

"Mmm," Elijah hums.

He knows Sean will take that as a yes.


End file.
